Torturing Troy
by mustardgirl1128
Summary: Oneshot for the Fluffy Bunny Challenge. The Author has an evil plan for Troy Bolton, and he's not going to like it!


A/N: For all who like HSM—THIS IS A PARODY (not that I don't mean every word I write…). Flames, I suppose, will be accepted, but don't say I didn't warn you. This is for the Fluffy Bunny challenge at the HPFC Forums, because I'm officially in love with it. The requirement is that the main character (mine being Troy) must encounter a fluffy bunny. Read on, my friends.

Disclaimer: Thank GOD I don't own. What would I do then?! -dies at the thought-

Dedication: For Kore-of-Myth, who rocks, and hates HSM as much as me (and that's saying something...)!

* * *

He'd never imagined this day would come.

He felt so…so…

What was the correct word for this feeling?

Ah, yes.

Sad. He felt so _sad_.

And humiliated. And embarrassed.

Why, you are asking? Why did Troy Bolton, basketball star, singer, and all-around pretty boy, feel _sad, humiliated, and embarrassed?_

The answer was simple.

His designer clothes were missing! Whatever could he _possibly_ do?

His favorite hat…the sweatshirt that he loved…the shirt that made girls scream in agony…the creepy tight pants…the shoes that allowed him to jump around on rocks and stab his fist in the air when he felt the need (though maybe that wasn't the shoes. Perhaps it was his inner female. Or outer…)—all were tragically _lost_!

He couldn't imagine what he'd do. How could he _live_?

"Oh Troy!" called his ever-so-yumilicious girlfriend Gabriella.

"Gabriella! There has been a _horrible_ happening!" he announced.

She blinked. "What is that, darling?" she asked.

"I've lost _all_ my designer clothing!"

"Not the _drag_!" she gasped in horror.

He nodded sadly. "Yes. Even the drag."

"Where _is_ it?" she asked, tears pouring down her cheeks.

He shook his head. "I don't know. What do I do without my tight pants?"

"I know!" said Gabriella, suddenly excited. "You should go out and play some sweaty basketball and groan in horror when you miss _every basket_, like you always do when you're sad!"

He rolled his eyes. "How do _you_ know that I do that? Whenever I do, I am trying to scare away _any_ potential fans of me, yet you're still here, so you must have never seen it!"

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "I'm not _dumb_, Troy," she said (and the Author raised her eyebrows disbelievingly). "I know _just_ what you do at _every_ second of the day because I am a controlling girlfriend!" All of this was said so brightly that Troy didn't really know that she was admitting to her faults, so he just nodded.

"What?!" she gasped. "You _agree_?"

"Huh?" he asked, pulled out of his thoughts (if he had any).

"You agree that I'm a controlling girlfriend?"

"Of course not, love."

"But you _just did_!"

"No, I didn't…" he mumbled, realizing he should actually listen to Gabriella's dribble once in awhile.

* * *

As the two sickening lovebirds fought, the Author was concocting a plan.

You see, she absolutely _hated_ Troy Bolton. Every bone in her body screamed out in physical pain when his name was mentioned. Her head spun. Once she even got sick. (No one mentions him anymore…)

So she'd decided to put herself and the rest of the High School Musical-watching world at peace. And put Troy out of his missing-drag misery.

For she had stolen the clothes of Troy Bolton in an attempt to drive him insane.

It very nearly worked.

But then stupid Gabriella had to come and make him guilty for not listening to her ramble on about Kindergarten and how ugly and fat she was (fully expecting him to disagree, when in fact he wasn't listening, so he agreed) and so the Author had to come up with something new.

She very much wanted to use a chainsaw or shovel, but she was half-sure Fanfiction would get angry about that.

So she decided to maybe force him to sit in a room and watch High School Musical one and two, as well as Camp Rock for good measure, and maybe a couple of his lovely girlfriend's music videos.

Quickly, she went about gathering the horrible things she needed (wearing gloves, of course.) She felt rather like Dr. Frankenstein, only instead of _creating_ a monster, she was _killing_ one. The smile on her face was impenetrable.

She quickly wrote, "Bad actor wanted for horrible movie!" on a poster and stuck it inside the only room she could find—a port-o-potty. She set up the DVD and TV in the port-o-potty, which was no easy task, and then called Troy up on his bright pink cell phone. "Hi! This is a movie agent calling up to ask if you'd like to be in the worst movie ever filmed!"

"Yes!" he said immediately, happy now even without his designer clothes.

"Come straight to The Ugliest Port-O-Potty Ever!"

"I'll be right there!"

The Author put down the phone and laughed evilly. Finally, Troy Bolton would be tortured to death!

* * *

He arrived at the port-o-potty only minutes later and walked in. He read the sign with excitement, but then turned and screamed. He was in a _port-o-potty_! Why did the name not warn him?!

He turned around and tried the door. He was locked in without drag, designer clothes, or bad-smelling cologne! He might _die…._

Luckily, just then, the Author turned on High School Musical one.

"_Who_ is that ugly freak with the scary wardrobe?" he wondered to himself as he stared at the guy who could have been his twin.

"It's _you_," he heard through the door, and screamed again.

"NO!" he yelled. He began to sob, pounding on the door, and the Author laughed in satisfaction. "Don't subject me to this any longer!" His singing began reverberating through the port-o-potty, though outside the Author had put on earmuffs.

"Getcha head in the game, Troy," she told him witheringly.

"Noo…" he moaned, exhausted. He collapsed none too comfortably in a less than fashionable spot, but for once, ignored that. His horrifying voice was driving him _mad_…he would die in seconds…go absolutely bonkers…he would never fight with Gabriella again over stupid little things because he was such an idiot…he would never star in horrible movies or TV shows again…he would never get back his drag! The thought made him wail in such anguish that even the heavily-protected Author could hear it.

Not that she minded.

And she walked away in fulfillment, waiting for Troy to die his imminent death.

_And it's the end of High School Musical forever! _cheered the Author in her head. Once her celebratory party ended, she immediately began to plan for Chad, Taylor, and Gabriella, and she'd _never_ been happier.


End file.
